Herbert slammed shut the trunk of his car, the items he needed from it now in his hands. He glanced to his right, shuddering as he saw the dark entrance to where his partner waited. To where his partner lived. They were out in the middle of nowhere, close to Delray. The area was rundown, mostly abandoned. In its hayday in the 1930s, Delray’s population was close to 23,000. As of 2010, there were just over 2,000 people here, even less now. The Detroit Times had recently called it “the closest thing to a ghost town”. Those that remained lived in poverty, with crime and bloodshed being a daily occurrence. People around here paid little attention to what was going on too far from their front door, so it was no surprise to Herbert that none of them knew what was in their town’s backyard. It was the entrance to a subway, long overgrown and decayed by time and nature. Herbert had long heard rumors of leftover constructs from the failed Detroit Subway System, originally proposed in the early 1920s. He was surprised to find out the rumors were true.
Mayor James Couzens originally vetoed the proposal for a subway in Detroit in 1920, but rumor has it construction still started in the late 1920s. Funding ran out and construction was halted. The subway was put on the ballot, supporters needing the public to vote yes to approve funding to finish construction. It was voted down by the John and Jane Q. and the subway was never finished. Herbert had heard all of the guesses as to where leftovers from the failed subway were. The GPC Parking Garage supposedly houses an entrance, as do other parking garages and various random spots around the city. There was even a rumor that the old Tigers Stadium contained an entrance. Who knew if any of them were true? After what Herbert had seen with his own eyes to prove the failed subway’s existence, he couldn’t dismiss any of them.
The original subway pilot tunnels were said to extend as much as 3 miles away from downtown along Woodward, Michigan, and Gratiot. No one has ever mentioned they could have gone this far, all the way to Delray. There was also no record of much completion of the underground tunnels, or of any of them connecting. But here was a tunnel opening, right in front of his eyes. Who knew how far the tunnel went, or how many more like it there were? His partner who lived in them never said, he never said much of anything. Herbert got the chills as he thought about his partner. If this wasn’t the only tunnel, he sure as hell hoped his “partner” was the only one of his kind. Tearing his gaze away from the ominous subway entrance, Herbert focused on the task at hand.
He sat the supplies he’d gotten from the trunk on top of the car, then opened the door, the slumped unmoving form of Poole still where he’d left it. The murdering bastard would be awake soon, Herbert had work to do. Dragging Poole out of the car, the old detective let him fall onto the ground. Then he stepped over the still unconscious man and grabbed the rope and empty potato sack he’d gotten from the trunk. Squatting by Poole’s side, Herbert began to tie the man’s wrists and ankles together. As he worked, he thought back to the day he’d found the subway entrance, and met his partner.